[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=efb4a0][center]Bartholomew Rosecliff [/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr]
A scowl crossed Bart's face, not used to having his intelligence insulted. "[color=efb4a0]Hey [i]Ma'am[/i]-[/color]" He began to say, before a large man approached him. He cleared his throat as he watched the conversation unfold between him and the woman. He then froze for a half second when he heard the phrase "last meal". Given that put together with the now repeated veiled threats lobbed towards him by the woman, he began to feel as though he may not be the safest here, to say the least. His mind quickly began to turn to panic, starting to race and roar as the potential danger began to sink in.

"[color=efb4a0][i]Stop. Think.[/i][/color]" He thought to himself, making his mind slow down and come up with some kind of action plan. "[i][color=efb4a0]There's never been anything I couldn't think my way out of, there's no reason this is any different.[/color][/i]" His eyes darted towards the door, trying to map out a route to the exit. Unluckily for him, he was seated on the other side of the room from the door, but he could make a straight beeline if he wanted. On the other hand, he could walk as close to the bar as he could, and then make a break for it once he was as close to the exit as he was gonna get. Since he was sitting, he settled on option number two. Lull the man into a false sense of security, and then get the fuck out.

"[color=efb4a0]A-alright,[/color]" Bart said letting his voice get a little rattled, which wasn't hard by a long shot. He stood up, and started to walk towards the bar, a bit of a quiver in his step. Once he was lined up with the exit, he broke out into a break neck sprint. Not exactly his thing, but he had to get out of there. Once he put distance between him and the club, he could slow down and keep up the distance for as long as he conceivably needed. He just needed to make it outside...